


Game of Thrones the Musical

by Ladeeknight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 08:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21115574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladeeknight/pseuds/Ladeeknight
Summary: Modern au set in Kings Landing under siege. Enemy Troops are knocking on the The Mud Gate and Sansa has been ordered by Cersei to be a good little dove and entertain high borns seeking refuge within the Red Keep. Can Sansa keep the peace with nothing but a lavish feast and her trusty karaoke machine? Does she even want anymore?Sandor is fresh from the fight and in a similar mindset of classic Sandor. It got dark on me again. Read Sandor’s POV at your own risk.





	Game of Thrones the Musical

**Author's Note:**

> In blatant denial of all my other projects this plot (?) bunny reached out and pulled me under. So here we go with Game of Thrones the musical. Probalby more aptly titled SanSan the musical, but I'm open to adding other ships and taking song requests. I can't make any promises, because I do kind of have a plot in mind, but i'm willing to entertain suggestions.  
So this is going to work on musical rules, which means the characters can literally break into song at any moment for any reason. Even if it's not really in character for them. I will put who the song is by in parenthesis so yo can look it up if you are not familiar with it.  
If you are going to read Sandor's POV against all my warnings know that he only ever sings one song. All the others just play in his mind as he runs through those memories.  
See if you can guess which song Sansa begins. There is a hint in the summary and the title of the chapter.

Sansa

Sansa felt like she'd been playing DJ for an eternity. Her usually high sweet voice had gone low and raspy with stress and exhaustion. She was now sipping watered wine during instrumental breaks, not because Cersei was forcing it down her throat, but because she needed to numb her aching vocal cords.

The Queen left earlier to do gods alone knew what, but Sansa still felt like it was her duty to keep up the spirits of those around her up. _That's what a real queen does. And Cersei was right about one thing, they will remember this night. If I really want them to love me one day, I have to be there for them in their hour of need. Oh, and let's not forget Ilyn Payne sitting in the corner sharpening Father's sword and giving me the hairy eyeball._

Just at this moment, Sansa was enjoying a break as a terrified young bride gave a tremulous though heartbreaking rendition of 'I Will Always Love You.' (Dolly Parton) Sansa sipped her wine and prayed to be delivered from this situation.

All too soon, the song was over, and no one else had signed up, which meant it was Sansa's turn again. She climbed to her bare feet having long ago kicked out of her Pradas. Her plum beaded sheath gown clicked and sparkled as she took the stage as the spotlight focused on her for what felt like the millionth time. Sansa had no preference for what came out of her mouth next, so she hit shuffle on the karaoke machine. There really wasn't a song in the machine that she couldn't manage, and everyone was too scared to care anyway. And if she sounded less than perfect, maybe more people would come up and sing.

As the opening bars began to play, Sansa threw back her head and laughed as tears sparked at her temples and ran into her flaming locks. It was as if the machine had tapped her call to the gods. The intro to the song was long and distinct, and it gave Sansa time to finger comb the simple braids out of her hair. She'd opted for that style though Cersei had commanded her to "dress to impress." It was partly because Sansa's moon blood was upon her, which always made her tired, and partly to thwart Cersei in every way that she could. The order was to dress up, so Sansa had done that with the fanciest dress that she could still squeeze into. Then she defiantly braided her hair in a prim conservative style her lady mother preferred hoping to confer some of that indomitable woman's spirit upon herself. Bonus: the mew of disgust on Cersei's face when she'd first walked into the Small Hall was priceless to Sansa. Now that Cersei was not here to antagonize, destroying the braid was actually kind of fun as she whipped her head from side to side. This song called for everything to be loose and wild, and Sansa reveled in it. This was not a hymn to the gods, but a desperate plea for...

The intro reached its thundering crescendo, and Sansa brought the mike to her mouth and began to belt out the tune.

***

Sandor

Sandor's fear and rage were somersaulting inside of him so that sometimes one was at the helm and sometimes the other. Creep by Radio Head ground up out of his throat. It sounded awful, but Sandor sang it to keep from turning rabid. _It may not be working._ He didn't want to fuck the king as he'd loudly announced to all assembled at the mud gate, but he did want to fuck the king's little Queen to be. (Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover weaves in as plays his favorite Sansa montage) Had for some time, in fact. Longer than he cared to think about.

Sandor had known that Sansa had been hiding her moon blood with the help of her hellion of a lady's maid. (Bad Moon on the Rise by Clarence Clearwater Revival) He could smell it on her. He'd said nothing for years though, as he had wanted to see her wed to Joff less than he wanted to quit drinking. But with the siege in place, Shea had not been able to get rid of Sansa's bloody bedding. He'd come upon the carnage himself with the little bird half-crazed making plans out loud, mostly involving fire, as she paced the floor in nothing but a near sheer shift, blood streaming down her long white legs leaving dark, delicate footprints on the pink marble floors of her room. Sandor had already started forming his own plan to get rid of the feather bed, as he strode the bed to see what he was dealing with. That was when the maid Cersei had spying on Sansa arrived. Sandor seriously considered crushing her skull and wrapping her up in the bloody bedding, but the clever little chit had turned and fled. Sandor gave chase, but that was when Sansa took notice of his presence in her room, and she fell all to pieces. Sandor did not stop and give the little bird comfort, as the idiot knights in the songs do, but by the time he'd settled Sansa on the floor where she couldn't hurt herself or smear blood on anything else, Cersei's spy had scampered behind a pair of Lannister guards at the end of the hall.

And so, Sandor had waited outside her rooms for Sansa to clean up so that he could escort her to Cersei after a summons quickly appeared. The Bitch (by Meredith Brooks) Queen, his former charge, had been in fine form that day. She'd said some truly horrendous things to the Little Bird as if Sandor were nothing more than a piece of furniture. That was three days ago.

(Picture, Kid Rock & Sheryl Crowe) Tonight, he climbed those same stairs several purposes and plans tangled up in his drunken rage._ Why should that murderous fuck Joff get such a beautiful little bride?_ Sandor had seen what that psychotic bastard had done with the whores Tyrion sent him as a name day present. Sandor had guard duty that night and had had to listen to them scream and beg for hours. Sandor hardly recognized the redhead, who had been a favorite of his, the next morning when she hobbled out of the royal apartments, clutching the tatters of her dress together. He'd had to carry the dark-haired one out. He'd dropped her on Tyrion's bed with little shit still in it, so the dwarf, and his too-clever sellsword, would know the weight of their error. 

(Loser, Beck) _No, even if I end up killing the little bird tonight, she'll be better off than she would be married to the current Mad King;_ Sandor comforted himself as he climbed more stairs. _If she's not in her room, I will just wait until she is._ It was a relief to finally have a clear direction.

Sandor reached the level of the Small Hall, and strains of music penetrated his rage fog. It was Sansa's voice as he'd never heard it. He'd once jokingly told her he'd make her sing, and she'd innocently agreed, unaware of the sexual undercurrents of his threat. Sandor turned toward the sound. This was not the lovely high voice offering hymns in the Sept that he was used to. This was a sound as ragged and tired as he was. It pulled him to her the words changing all his plans.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you guess Sansa's song? If you opted to read Sandor, did you like his songs? Tell me what you think of the crack pot idea? Drop a quarter in the juke box and see what happens (i.e. make a request).


End file.
